


The Rules

by lugubrious



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lugubrious/pseuds/lugubrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes Kikyo needs to be brought slowly and carefully back to life</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rules

Kagome pulls into the driveway. Kikyo is sitting quietly on the grass, staring up at the night sky. She hadn’t asked Kagome to come, but when Kikyo quietly mentioned she couldn’t sleep, Kagome was halfway there already. 

She opens the door of her father’s green ute, smiles. 

“We’re going to the museum,” Kagome says, as if it isn’t 4am and the world isn’t still quietly asleep around them. Kikyo says nothing. She gets to her feet and slips into the passenger seat, drawing her legs up onto the pale while upholstery and leaning her chin on her grass-stained knees. Kagome turns the key in the ignition, and they ease out onto streets lined faintly with yellow. 

They turn right, left, right again onto a highway that extends ‘til the horizon and then probably beyond. To their right is the ocean, smooth as glass and shifting slowly backwards and forwards. 

“Music?” Kagome asks, as she always does. Kikyo says nothing and stares out the open window, as she always does. Kagome flicks on the radio and rotates the volume to that setting where it’s low enough to allow for conversation and loud enough to get inside your heartbeat. The air is filled with something old and sweet, the kind of song Kagome’s mother danced to in the kitchen with Kagome clutching her waist and laughing. 

Kikyo never asks for help, but she never refuses it either. Every so often during the heavy summer nights Kagome finds her way to the small house where Kikyo and her sister live alone, sitting on the steps to the house or standing at the window, waiting. Tonight the wind billows through Kikyo’s top; she wears an uncharacteristically large t-shirt and shorts. Her hair is pulled haphazardly back from her face and yet it spills from the hair-tie and flickers in dark threads across her cheek. The look all together makes her seem like she’s falling apart at the seams in a very quiet, collected kind of way. 

Kagome, unashamedly dressed in her own pale flannel pyjamas, glances sideways at Kikyo. “There’s our blanket in the car,” she says. “From the picnic.” 

Rule one: never strictly state your intentions of helping. Make it seem like you brought it along for yourself – and the usefulness of the object is totally coincidental. 

Kikyo doesn’t take the blanket. 

//

“How are we getting in?” 

It’s the first thing Kikyo has said. Kagome is parking the car in the closest space to the museum. She clambers out. The rough asphalt feels grounding beneath her bare feet. Kagome laughs and dangles a pair of keys from her index finger. 

“I’m not a hardened criminal yet,” she says. They walk down the wooden path to the front of the museum. Kagome inserts her keys into a slot in front of the door, and the glass sheets slide apart. 

The museum is three floors high. The Bottom floor is dedicated to natural history; the middle floor is dedicated to temporary exhibits; the top floor is dedicated to ‘ _Science!_ ’

Kagome takes Kikyo’s hand gently and guides her to the stairs. 

“We’ll work from the bottom up,” she says. 

Rule two: there must always be a plan, even if that plan is to do ‘nothing’. 

//

The lights are automatic as the two step into the first room of the first floor. They flicker on, off, then on again and illuminate the collection of bones and statues. Kagome and Kikyo walk through the exhibition slowly, not reading any of the plaques but taking in the knowledge that seems to permeate the air of the museum. 

They walk through time, dinosaurs looming over their shoulders, fantastical as dragons in their size and stature. Sea creatures swim through the air; the blue on the walls and the light from the window combine to create ripples. 

Kikyo looks a tad too comfortable drowning away in the room, so Kagome steers her forwards through different periods until they reach the stairs at the other end. 

They climb again and sunlight inches up the walls. 

The temporary exhibit is on precious stones. Fake, larger than life diamonds are set into plastic rock walls. 

“Watch this,” Kagome says. She turns off the normal light and switches another on, setting lightbulbs in the fake gems aglow. The room is filled with sharp rainbows. 

They move on. 

On the top floor, things spark and glimmer enticingly through glass boxes. Kagome turns to point out the strange climbing wall set in the room, but when she turns around she sees she is alone. She spins slowly on the spot until she sees a door labelled ‘mirror maze’. As she watches, the door clicks shut. 

Kagome follows swiftly, pushing the door open again and stepping inside. She makes her way through the maze, peering at her own fluffy reflection as she does so, until she notices a human shaped bundle curled up in a corner. Kagome reaches out, she touches mirror. She tries again and feels Kikyo’s shoulder moving up and down jerkily. 

Rule 3: easy does it. 

Kagome takes one of Kikyo’s hands in her own and holds it. She traces patterns on the upturned palm, kisses the tips of her fingers, traces Kikyo’s jawline. Small touches, soft gestures to ground her. 

Eventually Kikyo turns to Kagome. Her eyes are wet and distant. 

“Can we go back to the car?” she asks. 

Kagome nods; they stand together and make their way through the maze, back down the stairs and outside. Kagome locks up as they go. 

The drive back is silent. Kikyo falls asleep in the passenger seat, and when they reach her house, Kagome piggy backs her to the door. She doesn’t leave. She lies on a futon with Kikyo and plaits her hair until sleep, easy and warm, reaches her too.      


End file.
